Abundant Caution Does No Harm
by lilkyonkyon
Summary: Mat pinches the wrong girl in Tear. Oh boy. TSR. Oneshot.


I have to say that Mat, for all of his crazy, is one of my favorites because he stirs the pot. What a weird guy.

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><p><strong>Abundant Caution Does No Harm<strong>

It was an honest mistake. Honest. Well, he _had_ meant to pinch whoever was walking by—but he didn't think it'd be _her_. Her of all people, traipsing around at night alone. _Who does she think she is?_ he thought vehemently. Of course, he knew that she had just as much right as he did. Maybe more, since she likely wasn't searching to steal midnight cuddle like he had been.

Mat scrubbed the offending hand through his hair and tried to even out his breathing. He was crouched against a wall in some tucked away corner of the Stone, one that very few people passed. No one would, at this time of night. And even if they did, it would be very hard to see a dark-haired, thin young man huddled in the shadows, trying desperately not to panic. No one would find him here.

_Unless she's hunting for me._

He shuddered. Would she even waste her time on something so trivial? An obvious mistake? She wasn't the one who had yelped, after all—he had. As soon as he'd seen her face, and recognized her. Then a quick apology and an even quicker escape had led him here. Certainly, if she had wanted to scold him, she would have already done so. Right?

And that was when he heard them: footsteps. Slow, even, and determined.

_Oh Light, Light, I've done it now! Blood and bloody ashes!_ Abandoning all caution, he broke into a full-out sprint, racing to reach the end of the corridor before she was able to catch him. It was only twenty paces, and it would be impossible for her to reach him within that time.

He had naturally overlooked the One Power.

Four strides out, and he was frozen stiff, only his head able to move. He strained wildly, like a rabbit already snared, while the footsteps only came closer, unhurried. He felt whatever was holding him begin to turn him around to face her. _Light, don't let my luck run out now! Burn me!_

It was her. He had to admit, even now, that she was beautiful. Beautiful, but cold. Though he could see a smile on her lips from this distance, he knew that it wasn't touching her eyes. Nothing but cool calculation ever could. Obviously, she was in no hurry. He thought he would break his bones trying to escape, but he only succeeded in breaking a sweat. She stopped when she was two feet from him, and he quit his straining, panting slightly from the effort.

"Matrim. How odd that we should run into each other like this."

He slurred a noncommittal reply. When in doubt, mumble.

"It's been a very long time since we've been able to talk. You've been avoiding me, so it would seem."

At this, he was silent. Best not to enrage her further. The sun wouldn't melt the hardness in her eyes. Mat felt himself pulling away from her, even if it was only his head.

"Look, Moiraine, it was a mistake—honest—" His mouth was suddenly sealed shut.

"I wasn't finished yet," the Aes Sedai said mildly. He wondered if the One Power showed itself in hard women's eyes. Small wonder Nynaeve was the strongest one of them by far. He vowed then that he'd stay away from any that weren't as good-natured as a kitten. "I've also noticed quite a bit of chatter about you in the servant's quarters. Especially amongst the women." She took a step closer, only six inches from him now. Though she was shorter, the Power forced him to look downwards, to meet her icy eyes. "I'll have no more of your foolishness," she hissed at him. "Within these walls, your _friend_"—he flinched—"is in great danger at every moment. Instead of wasting your time with scullery maids, do something useful. Help him."

He felt the bond on his jaw release at once. Mat worked the muscles in his jaw for a moment, if only to irk her, before he said, "I won't. I'm no dog of his, nor yours. If he—"

"You can and you will! You _must!_ Your thread, _everyone's_ thread, depends on him now."

Suddenly, the cushion keeping him still was gone, and he fell to the floor in a heap, head smacking the floor.

From above him, her voice, now fuzzy, added, "That is your duty. Not earning poor girls' tears." Then she began to leave; her footsteps, still steady, began to fade down the corridor.

"Bloody Aes Sedai," he grumbled when he felt she was out of earshot. A moment later, he yelped again, for the second time that night.

He could have sworn he had just felt a pinch.

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